Time to Revive HUAC

Go string me up. I'm proudly Un-American because:

1. I couldn't care less about baseball. The last (also the first) game I went to was the Washington Senators vs the Cleveland Indians. I don't care that the Colorado Rockies are going to the World Series, despite the fact that Darling Husband--and now even the Boy Wonder--thinks it's of earth-shattering importance. I'm only glad the Rockies won in four games so I wouldn't have to spend as much time hiding from the TV. Sure wish the World Series wasn't till the first week of November, when I'll be staying with a non-baseball friend in NYC. Guess I'll get a lot of reading/writing done starting October 24.
2. I couldn't care less about football. And after all my recent injuries, the sound of men ramming into each other makes me feel ill.
3. I loathe beer. Hadn't had more than a sip in 30+ years till a few weeks ago, when someone snuck a Corona into her Sweet Potato Queens margarita mix. It was almost palatable. Almost.
   
4. I loathe cola drinks. Q: "Coke or Pepsi?" A: "Water."
   
5. I can't abide grits. Having lived in North Carolina and Virginia, many people have brightly said to me, "Oh you just haven't had grits fixed right. Let me fix 'em for you!" They fixed 'em, all right. Blech.
   

But at least I've done one thing to qualify myself as an All-American Mom. According to today's NYT, The Family Meal Is What Counts, TV On or Off. Throughout the Boy Wonder's life, we've had family dinners (and breakfasts, and weekend lunches), usually without the TV on. Except during the playoffs, when BW and Darling Husband noshed in front of the tube and I stayed in the kitchen with the door closed.